ven

was the color of bruised iron. I was meticulously oiling the Damascus steel of

at, dead monotone. "Her speedboat exploded shortly after departure

e my polishin

', and I remained. The Culling was entering its final, bloodiest stage. But 'Nine' dying from a simple engine fault? Bullshit

Soldiers stood before me, de

gaze. "He's tearing his villa apart. Smashing marble, destroying everything in s

ted, knowing t

a rag doll, stitched back together dozens of times with crude thread. And a small box holdi

sion. 'Two's rage made him a rabid dog-dangerous, but entirely predictable.

ve speakeasy was thick with expensive cigar smoke and the low hum of Syndicate elites. 'Five' stood behind t

" I murmured, taking a seat

t. "The weak are elimina

sed. He didn't believe the explosion any more than I did. We were no longer just competitor

or into my darkened penthouse later that night

crete. From the shadows, a masked figure lunged, a

from under him. Three moves. I pinned him to the floor, my knee pressing brutally into his spine, twisting his

led of earth. I dragged the assassin down the stone steps and st

silver mask f

'," I sa

ile, rabid hatred. I turned my back to him, c

red liquid into a crystal glass. "You came for your

s. She smuggled you out and claimed you were dead. For that lie, Silas hung her by her wrists over the

e ropes, his breathing ragge

owing away the very life she suffered to save, all for a misguided suicide mission.

t this loyal was fooled, Silas had orchestrated a masterpiece of deception. But looking down at the broken